By way of explanation...we have been studying the Russian Revolution and reading books about the time right after when Stalin came into power. So, it's fresh on his mind. Also, this wasn't the first thing he thought of. Originally Harry's poem was going to be on Roman Gladiators, but we couldn't think of a good metaphor. Then he thought of birds and planes, but lost the paper he was writing his ideas down on. When I talked to him again he said he wanted to write a poem about Stalin and compare him to an iron fist.
The assignment was to write a poem using a metaphor. There could be other poetic devices, but metaphor was the primary goal.
Without further ado...
Stalin is an Iron Fist
by Harry
Flowers and trees bloom and pop,
Sun rises and doesn't stop.
Birds are noisy, eating seeds,
But in the garden there are weeds.
Russia turns cold.
Birds flee, gardens die.
Iron first comes and closes,
Stalin takes power, no more roses.
The iron fist grabs and crushes
changing life, people to mush.
Stalin has power, no one against him,
The iron fist will always win.
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